


You Overstep Your Bounds

by carmelitilla



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Cullen Rutherford Fluff, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Rough Oral Sex, Spanking, Spoilers, Threesome - F/M/M, Trevelyan is a virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmelitilla/pseuds/carmelitilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariel Trevelyan judges Blackwall, leaving his heart where it lies in front of her throne and breaking their romance. She retreats to her chamber and has a dream/nightmare where he gives her everything she wanted from him but will never because of his betrayal (sex) - Cullen happens to appear among her subconscious and join in.</p><p>A short series of chapters follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Even knowing what would happen with the romance with Blackwall, I was still struck by how angry he made me.

Ariel’s knuckles whitened on the wooden armrests of her Inquisitor’s throne, squeezing it as hard as she could, anything to keep her from launching herself at Blackwall– danmit, Rainer, whoever the fuck he was - as he stepped towards her. One heavy boot fell on the first step, the second on the next, the first onto the third – he stopped when his chained wrists challenged his ability to keep his balance. His eyes dug into her chest, searching her but unable to look her in the eye – eyes which she kept staring through him.

Blackwall’s voice was like gravel, heavy with emotion as he spoke to her, words like cherry blossoms falling from a dying tree. She couldn’t hear him over the rushing in her ears; she bit her tongue to keep from spitting out the pieces of her heart - the cost of his freedom, which she had given him.

“Ari –“ he whispered, pleading when she did not respond. He’d dared to use her name, in front of her court where asking her forgiveness was the only viable option regardless of if it was his choice. He had wanted to die, he had wanted to leave her. It had cost him the life of another in his place when she had balanced her scale of power. It was all a web of lies.

“I am the Inquisitor,” she said with strength that carried over him. Every turned away body was listening, even the shadows held her furiously curious companions. “You will return to your position and address me as such.”

Blackwall’s silhouette bent inward, crumpling under her dismissal. Ariel might have seen the tears in his condemned brown eyes, or the tremble of his lips behind his masking beard, but she starred straight over his head as Josephine ordered the guards to release him. He backed away, waiting for her to look at him, maybe wishing – she didn’t and then he was past the point of no return.

Ariel peeled herself from the throne, nodding to Josephine at her word that the trials of the day were complete – the worst judgment had been saved for the last.

“Perhaps you should rest,” Josephine whispered as the court filed back towards the entrance of the throne hall. A banner of the Inquisition flapped there in draft of the castle.

Ariel pinched the bridge of her short nose, the adrenaline of the moment was quickly draining, the absence of the vibrating energy was turning her into a quivering mess. “Yes,” she said, shaky. She cleared her throat. “Fetch me when,” she let go of her nose for an airy wave.

“I will, my Lady.” Josephine moved past her in a flush of oily perfume, heading off a straggling noble waiting to pounce on the Inquisitor for her favor.

Ariel more floated to her chamber door than walked. She managed the handle of the door with both of her hands, her frayed nerves not quite responding when she tried to push the handle. She closed it as delicately as she could but the soft click of the lock was like the starting gun for her heart to race. She took a deep breath, so hard she felt it tingle in her fingertips. She took another, but it only served to fuel the pounding.

There wasn’t enough air to sustain it, Ariel’s cheeks burned under the molten liquid that spewed from her eyes. She clutched her chest, clawing up fine silk that scratched like burlap. She pressed her forehead into the cold stone to freeze her thoughts. She had denied Blackwall, she had thrown away his loathsome love. A sob, more like the grunt of a wounded soldier, escaped her. She spun, gasping, and slid down the wall, her mouth gaping at the cathedral height of the tower ceiling. He had wanted to remain hers, he had wanted to atone with her – but his atonement had to be for himself, and no one else. A crow from the arching windows below answered her halting moan. Ariel wrapped her arms around her knees and cradled her chest. This would pass if she could be patient. It was plausible.

Ariel panicked until her hyperventilating forced her body to shut down, casting her into a chronic slumber there on the damp chamber floor.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Blackwall kneels before Ariel, his wrists locked in cuffs on either end of an iron rod. His bulking shoulders are bare, his crown of thick dark hair bowed towards her. They've dragged him into the interrogation chamber of the Haven dungeon. It's fitting he should be nameless where she was before, a woman only definable by a glowing green mark according to a Seeker. 

"Who are you?" she asks leaning so her hip juts towards the single lit torch amongst the barred cells. "I grow tired of asking." She twists one of her dual-bladed veridum daggers into the pad of her finger, feigning boredom. 

"I lied about who I was," he says without looking up.

Ariel struts towards him, all the power of the Inquisition behind her, and slips the point of her blade under his chin. "I know you did, Thom." Blackwall tips his head up with her prompting. His eyes are a fair green, almost grey, his dark beard caressing either side of her blade where it holds his chin at its part. 

"But I never lied about what I felt," he pleads. 

Ariel draws the blade down, over his collar bone, and into his curled chest hair. His stout chest reflects the character he laid claim to, thick and tangled with muscle and scar tissue. One glazed white mark runs from the bottom of his right pectoral to his out belly button. "These tell more truth than you," she says poking at the scar and drawing closer to him. The tips of her fingers comb through the beard of his cheek, trailing to his lips where the tip of her thumb presses between his lips. "Than this," she hisses tugging on his bottom lip forcefully. She casts him away, stepping back to circle him. 

"No matter what I was, or what becomes of me," Blackwall begins his eyes following her until she is behind him. 

Ariel scoffs running a hand through her stark blond boy-short hair, returning to his line of sight.

"Right now, I am just a man with my heart laid bare."

"What heart?" Ariel asks, venom dripping from her tenor. "Whose heart?!"

"My heart!" he yells at her, the veins in his neck rising against his sun-weathered skin. 

"That's not enough." 

Blackwall hides his face, looking at the ground in shame. "Why can't it be enough?" he asks quietly, it's more meant for the Maker to answer. 

"What did you say?" Ariel squats before him, her rogue leathers squelching. Her knees point to opposing walls. 

"You loved me," Blackwall reaches out towards her, his dwarfing hands catching her inner thigh. "I know you-"

"Enough!" Ariel flees from his touch. "You know nothing."

Blackwall pushes a calf beneath himself, his cloth pants pulling down his hips revealing a sinking trail of hair. He reaches towards her again, hands caught and aimless. "What do I have to do?!" 

"Tell the truth!"

"I am, I love -"

Ariel slaps Blackwall, her palm stings with it. "This isn't love." Her chest aches like she's drowning. She points to the stone floor. "You. Took. Everything. From. Me."

Blackwall takes a shuddering breath, his eyes returned to hers are all passion, burning fire without the licks of a demon. His eloquence is forgotten, the first strains of unending pressure glisten as sweat in the flashing firelight. He pushes up with his other calf, a grunt of effort escaping him. He stands, not much taller than Ariel, and speaks, his breath washing across her in a low timber. "Then take it back."

Five breaths, the last three pants, echoed by the other. 

"Inquisitor," Cullen, all golds with shining eyes, enters the chamber from the edges of the darkness. He appraises Blackwall with a tainted scrutiny reserved for those who have betrayed him. "Is everything alright?" he asks in the slight accent Ariel has never been able to place but for that it's old. 

"Commander," Ariel breathes, his name is a sigh of relief. She crosses from Blackwall and he wraps long arms around her, shielding her. He kisses her hair, glaring daggers over her. "I don't know what to do." 

"I know." Cullen releases her, keeping her behind him as he approaches the warrior champion. Blackwall keeps his eyes low. Cullen kicks out at Blackwall, striking his calf. Blackwall's knees crack against the stone. Ariel gasps. "You will kneel before your Lady!" Cullen shouts at him. He looks back, only as thick as Blackwall because of his hulking armour, and reaches out to Ariel. "Come to me, my Lady. I will show him what you deserve."


	3. Chapter 3

Ariel can't help the smirk that catches her. Excitement steals up her finger tips, ignited by Cullen's hand as she walks her fingers across his palm. He pulls her around in a wide arch, her feet crossing over each other to exaggerate her hips. "This is what you've given up," Cullen whispers to Blackwall, watching her as he displays her. He tugs her in and she braces herself with clawed fingers on his valiant vambraces. His golden eyes look to her lips and then to hers, "May I kiss you?"

"Yes," Ariel breathes, and its barely left her mouth before he pounces. Cullen's wide thin mouth surrounds her lips, warm and wet. She inhales deeply, smelling leather oils and musk. He bends over her, her hips finding steadying purchase against his. She grips either side of his face, his stubble rough against her hands, and tilts him so she can delve into his mouth, toiling with his tongue. Cullen groans, bending her back farther, one long arm encircling her waist to keep her from toppling, the other drawing up the back of her thigh to squeeze her ass, kneading. 

The Inquisitor's throne looms over the scene, the swords of its back reflecting over-sharp in quick winks of the tossing flame. Ariel releases Cullen's face to peel back his lion's pelt. Cullen straightens, bent slightly at his knees to keep level with her kiss, shucking the pelt off his shoulder guards. Ariel pushes lightly on his chest, his neck stretching until he is forced to break the kiss. The desire between them is almost tangible to Blackwall as they look into each other's eyes, lips slightly parted, like they've found something akin to water for a man dying of thirst. 

Ariel holds her hand out and Cullen passes her the pelt. She hangs it on a sword of the throne. "Take it off," she orders, her eyes climbing Cullen from his grievers. "All of it."

Each piece of Cullen's silverite plating falls like a brick on a wall of tension. Blackwall remains still, head bowed, even as the plates hit the stone floor, unflinching - but Ariel catches his eyes shooting up, peaking through his long lashes every so often.  When Cullen's back is bare, closer to olive than pale, Ariel returns to him, placing her palms flat on his shoulder blades and inspecting his smooth skin. She trails her fingers down either side of his spine, watching the definition in his back flex underneath her curiosity to the dimples above his trousers. She plants a kiss between his shoulder blades, "You _are_ beautiful," she tells him, because she never would have imagined a more attractive man. 

"Thank-you, my Lady." 

Ariel steps around the commander in front of Blackwall. Cullen continues to undress behind her, his thighs taught, his hip bones pressing against his breeches. Blackwall can do nothing but watch, a dark want swirling in the pit of him, entranced but for the ache of his knees from being stationed on the dungeon floor. Ariel slides her fingers through his hair, he shivers beneath her. "Look at me," she says, fisting his hair to draw him up. "You've thought of me," she states.

Blackwall nods, not trusting his voice. 

"Naked, under you, clenching around your cock," Ariel hisses.  Blackwall's eyes dilate, hungry. He has dreamed of these things before, she knows, woken in his hay bed in the barn to take himself in his hand.  She pulls his face to the juncture of her thighs and rolls her his against him, her breath hitching at the pressure of his nose through her leathers. "Of what I taste like -" she pulls him back and he grimaces under her grip. "Answer me."

"Yes," he says desperately. "Every night since we came to Skyhold."

Ariel grips the bar of his cuffs and drags him to his feet. She stands close enough to him that she can feel his body heat, but not close enough that they are touching. His thick member is hot against his trousers. She grips it without precedence. "This is what you meant," she says, palming the length of him, "When you told me to take it back."

"Yes," he chokes, his head bowing against her shoulder, resting.

"You'll do whatever I want," Ariel whispers into his ear, his head becomes heavier on her shoulder. She flicks out her tongue and licks his ear lobe. "Anything I need."

"I need you, my Lady." 

Ariel sucks gently on his ear lobe, massaging his cock in her hands. "Too little, too late," she says thrusting him back. He stumbles surprised. "On your knees, Blackwall."

Blackwall drops to his knees with a grunt. Cullen comes behind Ariel and presses his nose into the crook of her neck, his hands exploring her again. She can feel him, hard against her back side, and her head lulls back onto his shoulder, granting his lips access to suckle her skin. She kicks off her boots and wraps her arms around the back of his neck, stretching before Blackwall. 

"Undress me," she orders. Cullen trails his knuckles down each of her sides, roaming to the front of her hips to cup the insides of her thighs. He bucks into her and she can't help a moan. He pulls her second dagger with its holster from her hips, casting it aside. He presses up firmly until he's found the zipper at the top of her leathers. He pulls it down, slowly, until it unhooks at the bottom, revealing the simple wrap she wears underneath. His hands part, one continuing down, sliding over her sex to press against her nerve points, the other up to grasp her breast. Ariel's eyes flutter closed and Blackwall lets out a pleading moan. Cullen pulls at her wrap and the knot lets go, the fabric spiralling off of her torso to pool at her feet, the cold of the dungeon turning her skin to gooseflesh. She drags his hands to her nipples, and pinches them between his fingers. 

"Harder," she begs, revelling in the sweet pain that drives her ass into his hips. "Hard-" Ariel cries out at his sharp touch, tugging her nipples as he growls into her neck. His calluses are rough against her skin, tantalizing in contrast. She covers his hands with hers, smaller but firm, and guides them to the clasp of her leggings, enjoying the friction.  Cullen squats behind her, undoing the clasp in short work, and pulls them to her ankles. 

With a palm on his shoulder, Ariel steps out of her leggings. Cullen nips at her calf, teasing to the back of her knee, to the underside of her ass, to palm both of her cheeks. Ariel fists her hand in his hair and pulls him against her. His tongue juts out, sinking into her sex from behind. She's wet, wet enough to slick his mouth as it leads back over her. He pulls her cheeks apart and she sits back against his mouth, moaning as he shakes his mouth against her. 

"Enough," Ariel commands before she comes undone. She steps away from Cullen walking towards Blackwall, proud in her nakedness. He hastens to close his mouth, panting at the sight of her. "I'm going to strike you for your crimes," she tells him, moving behind him. She pushes him onto his hands, bending over him so her breasts brush against his back. "You're going to enjoy it."

"Yes," Blackwall says lowly as she pulls back his trousers. He grunts when his cock springs free from its confines. 

"If you cum," Ariel says straightening. "I'll hang you for treason." Her authority rings in the lie, empowering. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Blackwall says. 

Ariel raises her hand high, catching Blackwall's eyes over his shoulder, and comes down hard on his ass with the flat of her palm, a smack catching the stone in the hollow of the halls. "Forward," she orders, and he crawls towards the throne. "Stop." She spanks him again, thrusting her energy into the strike. Cullen stands, a tiny smile under the heat in his eyes. "Forward," she says. "Stop," and she strikes him again. Blackwall yells at the third strike, his cheeks reddening from her abuse. "This is what you wanted?" she asks, striking him again. 

"Yes!" he bellows, moving forward with her pattern. 

Ariel leans over Blackwall and catches his throat. She forces him to rear up before Cullen, coming level with his hips. "Take his cock in your hands," she orders. Blackwall obeys without hesitation. Cullen's member is swollen, a wet drop within reach of Blackwall's thumb. Ariel trails a finger down Cullen's chest, over Blackwall's hands, and delicately takes it, holding her finger before Blackwall's lips. "Taste him," she orders. Blackwall sucks on her finger, his tongue swirling around its end, a groan vibrating his lips, she closes her eyes at the sensation.  "Take him in your mouth," she purrs. 

Blackwall licks the head of Cullen's cock and fills his mouth with it. Cullen gasps, settling a hand on Ariel's hip, leaning into the warrior's mouth. Blackwall bobs, moving his hands to settle further down until it hits the back of his throat. 

Ariel resists the urge to satisfy the clenching of her body. She squats beside Blackwall. "More, Thom," she begs. "I want you to choke on it." 

Cullen hollers as Blackwall grips either side of his thighs and forces his cock into his throat, his lips swallowing at the base of it. He gags and pulls back to take a ragged breath. His eyes meet Ariel's as he does it again, groaning when she reaches to squeeze his own member. Cullen grips Blackwall's shoulders. 

"I'm going to make him fuck you, Thom," Ariel says as he licks from the underside of Cullen's cock. "I'm going to make him take you, like you want to take me." 

Blackwall closes his eyes at her words, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks hard around Cullen. Ariel grips the back of his neck and keeps him there, watching him shudder before dragging him back, a line of spit connecting between his lips and Cullen's cock. She drags him away to kneel before the throne, sitting all the way back. She balances her ankles on either side of Blackwall's shoulders. She slips her forefinger between her lips. Blackwall watches as she takes that same finger between her folds. Ariel curses at the sensitivity of her nerves, bucking against her hand. Blackwall leans towards her - 

"No," she says. She wags that finger at him. Blackwall sets his jaw. "Just watch," she says. She runs a finger over herself, slipping it deep inside her, gasping when she finds her deep pressure point. "Cullen," she breathes, massaging herself. Cullen stands behind Blackwall. She guides Blackwall's chin to rest on the end of the throne seat, before her sex. "Take him."

"As you wish, my Lady." Cullen spits into his hand, watching Ariel. He massages Blackwall's nether hole, slicking it, before straddling his hips and pressing against his opening. Blackwall gurgles out a moan as the head of Cullen's cock slips into him. He pushes back into him, helping him further inside, gripping the feet of the throne. 

"Fuck him," Ariel orders, quickening her hand on her sex. Cullen rocks his hips into Blackwall, beginning in earnest. Blackwall calls out, grunting with each thrust, feeling the pulsing of Cullen's cock against the almost-too-tight sensation. Each thrust pushes his chin closer to Ariel, and he bucks back egging him on. "Fuck him," she says again, "Fuck him!" 

Blackwall reaches Ariel, flicking his tongue against her hand. She shifts forward so he can bury his face in her sex, furious against her nerves. She grips the ends of the throne and rocks with Cullen's thrusts. "No," she begs, building against her will. "Please, please." Blackwall releases the throne and thrusts his fingers into her, clenching his teeth as Cullen bares down on him, making him shiver. 

"No, no, no, no -" Ariel's body goes rigid. Cullen leans forward and grips the back of her neck, pulling her into a deep kiss. Ariel cries out into his mouth, coming undone between them. "Cum for me," she calls as she releases. "Common -"

Both men shout at her words, both unable to resist her. Cullen pulls himself from the warrior and spills onto his back. Blackwall sucks Ariel's nerves, sending her over again, and spills himself onto the dungeon floor. 


	4. Chapter 4

Ariel stirs to the up-and-down rhythm of being moved. She curls closer to the warm arms that support her, trembling slightly from her dream. Her subconscious is caught somewhere between revelling in the depravity of it, and the rational that begs her to forget it. She forces her eyes to open, peering up at whose pried her from the floor. "Cullen?" she asks. His chin is hidden by the fur of his collar, but one bronze eye finds her over it. His brow is furrows. 

Cullen sets her down on her bed, cupping the back of her head, firm fingers to cradle her onto her pillow. "My Lady," he says. "Are you alright?" His thumb skirts over her cheek, rough against her soft skin. 

Even then the day's events are catching up to Ariel, the context for the dream. Her eyes sting, filling with unshed tears. "No," she whispers back, cupping his hand against her skin. She attempts to smile but it's a fragile thing. 

"You must have passed out," Cullen retreats, pulling his hand back to rest beside her on the thick comforter. The fading rays of late afternoon fall through the Dalish windows she's installed earlier that week, they make the green hue of the Commander's armour stand out. Ariel curls towards them, distracted by why she might have picked them. Drawing her knees up to her chest on her side she has trouble seeing their beauty. 

"Ariel," Cullen calls softly, placing his hand on her hip, needing to touch her. He wishes her wounds were tangible so he might find them, heal them. "Do you -" Cullen takes a deep breath, his other hand flexing into a fist. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

Ariel shakes her head quickly, turning her face into her pillow to hide her tears. It's too soft. She slams her wrist into it thrice, and then screams into it.

Cullen's hands hover above her helplessly, trying to calm her. "Ariel -"

"Damnit!" she says, pulling up to breathe. She sits up, and buries her face in her hands. Her hair fans around her fingers, sprouting around her digging nails. "I'm such a fool!" 

Cullen shakes his head but she doesn't see it. Two sobs wrack her shoulders, bouncing her on the mattress. He wants to kill Rainier. He wants to run him through and hang him from the gates as a warning to the others who might take advantage of their Inquisitor, his Lady.   


"I should've known," she says wrapping her hands around her knees. "I don't know how, but I should've." She takes a shuddering breath in an attempt to calm herself. Her eyes tense, fluttering between steel and the redness that reveals her pain. She looks at him and shrugs. "I just should have known." 

Cullen nods, she couldn't have, but he could have. Rainer was under his command. 

"You're just as bad off as I am, aren't you?" Ariel reads his thoughts. She places her hand on his fist. Her eyes are filled with empathy, the depth might swallow him so he looks away. She shakes her head again and gives a harsh laugh.

"There aren't words," Cullen scoffs. He looks up at the cathedral ceilings.

"You want to know the worst of it? For me at least?"

Cullen nods, turning his fingers to wrap around hers.

"I wanted to give myself to him," she whispers. Her thumb skirts over the back of hir hand. "I wanted him to be the first."

Cullen steadies his gaze with hers. "First - ?"

Ariel tries to pull her hand away but he catches it with his other, between them. He calls her with her name again before pulling her into his lap. He holds her as close as he can manage with his plate armour, if she's uncomfortable she doesn't say. Her weight reassures him. "I'm so sorry, Ariel." 

Ariel looks up at him and searches his golden eyes. She sees love, that sparkling hope. She feels cherished, protected. She wonders how she hadn't been able to tell the difference. "I came so close to making the wrong choice."

Cullen lets out the breath he's been holding. "I almost let you."

Ariel nods, her lips trembling again with new tears. She leans back against his chest, watching the windows again. Cullen leans down and kisses the top of her head. They watch the hour pass, hoping time will heal them.


End file.
